Virtually Yours
by The Scarlet Sky
Summary: Because he's clueless, she's frustrated, and they both just want each other to be happy. Too bad Timmy's no Romeo, and Tecna is one impatient Juliet. What ensues is an adventure to save their marriage...and, oh yeah, the world. That, too. Timmy x Tecna.
1. Chapter 1: Immaturity

**Note: **And thus, I enter the world of Winx Club long-fics. Wow. (glances about) This is so exciting! Now, I know none of you have really been anticipating this unveiling, but I have, and I'm psyched beyond belief to finally get this baby posted! So without further ado, I give you my Timmy x Tecna Romance/Humor/Adventure/_Thing_ to enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Winx Club. Not even a club in general. I _should_ start a club, though...maybe the, um, Sphinx Club? O.o

PS: I watch the dreaded 4kids version. So forgive any discrepancies.

Virtually Yours

_Prologue:_

Computers. Cell phones. Videogames. Practically anything with a screen, I'm comfortable with. Error 404? I've got it under control. Blue screen of death? No problem. Spam? Don't make me laugh. It's all logically processed, kept in a structured line, and that's what I love about technology: order.

So spontaneity…well…throws me for a loop.

"So good of you to visit, Tecna." Flora smiled at me, and I smiled back, suddenly overwhelmed with the smell of flowery perfumes. It coated the air with a sticky sweetness, and I had to fight the urge to sink into a comfortable chair and sleep under the dizzy scent of nature. There was no technology to be found here, and I felt alien.

My friend, however, glided about this tree-dwelling home with ease, and occasionally stopped by a nearby plant (there are infinite amounts of them) to inspect a leaf or sprinkle some water on its roots. I sat myself down on an unsteady, but comfortable, willow chair and waited for her as she skips into the back room.

"Herbal tea?" she called, and I shook my head. Flora bounded back in with two cups anyway, and she sat herself across from me, smiling. "That's alright, sweetie. In case you change your mind, there's some here for you. Now…what's the matter?"

And I blinked at her, wondering if I should just recap the obvious, or tell her all about the past five years married to the man of my dreams, and the misunderstanding that threatened to drive that all apart.

**Chapter One: Immaturity**

"Honey, are you awake?"

I'd laughed, Timmy still half-asleep as he called his question, and replied, "The better question would be why didn't _you_ wake up earlier, Timmy?"

He stumbled into the room, fuzzy slippers poking underneath striped pajama pants as he rubbed his bleary eyes. The kitchen smelled absolutely lovely; I'd punched in some buttons so that our self-cooking microwave could whip us up a delicious batch of oatmeal. On the table, I'd left some other delectable goods: French toast, scrambled eggs, and some sugary cereal Bloom had sent us from Earth. Timmy took in a deep breath, inhaling the smells, then scratched his head.

"Tecna…have you been _cooking_?"

"Partially," I admitted, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "And I hope that you don't mind that I turned off your alarm last night; I figured you deserved to sleep in on your birthday."

He sat himself down at the table, and I brought the oatmeal with me as I sat across from him, beaming. Timmy took a spoonful of scrambled eggs then paused mid-way to his mouth. "When you say partially—?"

"—I let the machines handle it," I explained, and knowing his food was safe, he ate freely. To be fair, I'd cooked a few good meals before…I'd just cooked more deadly ones. However, that's technology's job, is it not? If the machine can cook just fine, well, why risk mine and Timmy's health with my experimentation? Besides, it got incredibly humiliating when company was over…

"So any plans for the day, Timmy?" I inquired, and he wiped his mouth with a napkin, squinting at me without his glasses. "Sky has let you have the entire day off for your birthday, and if he can spare a day without his Royal Strategist, you can spare a day for yourself."

He took a few more bites of the eggs, followed by toast, before he replied. "Tecna, I—I don't know. I'm only turning twenty-five—"

"—which is a milestone," I reminded him. "Why, don't you suppose there's anything you'd like to do to celebrate? Perhaps a day at the beach, or…?"

"Actually," Timmy replied with a grin, "there's this new videogame at the arcade, and I'm almost positive I can beat you at it, Tecna."

I narrowed my eyes at him and sipped my orange juice. "Chances of that, Timmy, are less than five percent. And shouldn't you be thinking of something a little more…I don't know…adult?"

"Adult?" Timmy repeated. I nodded and picked up some French toast—something Stella had once recommended to me—and took a decisive bite.

"Frankly, Timmy, we're getting too old for this, aren't we?" I explained. "Shouldn't people our age be doing more meaningful things than virtual reality games?"

For a second, my husband's face scrunched up in thought, then relaxed as he chuckled. "I'm only _one_ year older, Tecna," he grinned. "I haven't changed that much, have I?"

For those of you wondering, I did in fact beat Timmy at that new game, but that wasn't my point. As the bright lights flashed in the arcade and the pulsing music blared in our ears, I kept glancing his way only to frown and look back at the screen.

Oh, I loved videogames as much as him; I wouldn't deny it. Yet there seemed something so juvenile about spending one's twenty-fifth birthday at…at a…a children's arcade! The crowd cheering as I won was made up of high-schoolers: fairies and specialists too young to share this day with. To be honest, I felt…old.

"Great time, huh, Tecna?" Timmy exclaimed, locking the house door behind him. I shrugged lightly and sank myself down in my chair, chin propped on my hand. Well, no one could deny that my husband was absolutely glowing with joy, but was it so wrong to wish for a more mature day together? More romantic, even?

A hand alighted on my shoulder, and I turned Timmy's way to see his eyes squinting in concern. "You okay?"

"Of course I am."

"No, you're not," Timmy insisted, sitting down beside me. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, and I watched as he continued, "Your leg is doing that—that swingy thing—"

"What swingy thing?"

"—that you always do when you're irritated."

"I do not swing my leg when I'm irritated!" I scoffed, stopping my leg mid-swing. "Timmy, don't be ridiculous. We had a lovely day together, you and I. It's just…"

Timmy raised his eyebrows. "Just…?"

"Just odd," I admitted. I stared at the wall, industrial art cluttering the walls in a somehow organized manner, and explained, "Timmy, you and I, we aren't kids anymore. We're adults. And what are we going to do when you're not turning twenty-five, but fifty? Bring out dance mats and test our achy joints?"

"Tecna—"

"And when people ask us what we did for the Day of the Rose, we'll just tell them we spent it beating up virtual monsters and unlocking cheat codes!" I exclaimed bitterly. More bitterly, in fact, than I had intended. "We're always just hanging on technology, you and I—but I'd thought today we'd actually do something sophisticated!"

Standing up, I paced the room, continuing in my tirade. "People our age book reservations at fancy restaurants and order things they can't pronounce! They take long walks on the beach even though they'll get bitten by bugs, and they go on long vacations at resorts and—and they don't do _this_!"

I swept our boxed leftovers off the table—pizza—and glared at him, more furious than I realized I could be. Timmy simply blinked at me, stunned, and I caught my breath. Oh, this fury was senseless, I could tell, but it melted away quickly enough into defeat when I saw his widened eyes. I let my muscles relax as I sat down beside him again, cradling my head in the crook of his shoulder under a sudden weight of guilt. "Timmy," I whispered, "do you think…we'll ever grow up?"

"Statistically," he murmured, "it's bound to happen."

I snuggled closer. "And Timmy?"

"Mhm?"

"Statistically, what are the odds of you forgiving me for my completely uncalled for outburst?"

His arms tightened around me, and he laughed gently in my ear, tickling me. "I'd say they were pretty phenomenal."

"Even though I forgot your birthday cake?"

"Well." He grinned and wrapped his arm about my waist. "There's always time for dessert."

* * *

I wish I could say that patched everything up. But as time passed, we went to our separate jobs, and came home exhausted; I suppose there was just no _time_ to argue. Each of us worked as Royal Strategists: he for Eraklyon, I for Sparx. Some days we'd come home so terribly tired, all we had time to do was exchange notes and fall asleep on the couch. Of course, that resulted in stiff mornings and grouchy breakfast conversations, but the beauty of that is if you argue when you're half-asleep, odds are you'll forget all about it in an hour or two.

"Darling, where are my glasses?"

I smoothed my skirt and turned to him, calling, "I believe I saw them on the bathroom counter. Check by the sink."

I slipped on my shoes—very professional and business-like heels—just as my husband stormed into the room, glasses hurriedly perched on his nose. I sighed as I took in the sorry sight of his tie and tied it with precision and accuracy. "Dear, this is bordering on pathetic, isn't it?"

Timmy grinned his goofy grin, and I giggled, finishing it with a smile. "Well, at least I've got a girl who can help me out with a tie or two."

"Try a tie or two _dozen_."

He kissed me gently on the mouth, and I felt a slight tingle shoot through my spine. In high school, I'd have given anything for Timmy to be this open about his feelings, but the best things come with time. Once you've given someone everything you are, suddenly little things like kisses come easily.

And it's easy to be distracted by your husband's disaster of a collar in mid-peck.

My hands reached past his shoulders to adjust it, and he pulled away, an unspoken question on his lips. "Well, you don't expect me to let you go to the royal court dressed like that, do you?" I demanded. He eyed me suspiciously, then smiled as he hugged me close.

"See you after work," he assured me, and added as he turned to go, "Oh, and don't make any plans for tomorrow."

The request peaked my curiosity, but I merely nodded. Timmy wasn't one to drop surprises like this, and if I knew him as well as I thought I did, he'd be sure to answer my questions later tonight.

* * *

You wouldn't consider working as a strategist for a dead planet to be much of a difficult task, but I've simply had my hands full for the past two years. Sparx may have a small population, but it's grown due to recent tourism; all sorts of fairies, witches, and heroes are curious despite themselves, wondering if this great kingdom could have somehow stumbled back onto its feet. Despite the low chance of success, it most certainly has.

The combined powers of Bloom and Stella have had the astonishing effect of thawing the entire planet at a slow, but impressive, rate. Solaria's sun and the Dragon Fire are an incredible convergence to witness, and the green tufts appearing on the planet's barren soil are a result of Flora's kind efforts. It's an inhabitable place, now. And if the combined appeal of a newly born planet and the crowning of its famed heiress weren't enough to draw attention, Musa always books a day in her famed tour there each and every summer.

So what is my job, you ask? I've settled into an old room of Bloom's castle and created an office of sorts for me to invent and devise. "I want this place to be protected," Bloom admitted to me, begging for my aid. "I don't want it to fall a second time. You're the only person I'd trust with this, Tecna. I wouldn't know where to start, myself."

That was how the S.D.W. was born, or, more simply put, the Sparx Defense Wall. For months, I agonized over research in libraries and exhausted the knowledge of Professor Faragonda of Alfea and Ms. Griffin of Cloud Tower. If I were to create a shield to defend Bloom's home, it'd need something more durable than that which had been used in the past for our old schools. Something sophisticated. Intelligent. Impenetrable.

And since I would be creating it, I knew it would be technology.

My brainchild coats over Sparx like an unseen haze, each particle a living, breathing form of technology instilled with Winx. A password would be too easily breached, so I built it to only respond to the commands of previously approved ships of friendly nations. More specifically, a single company's transportation: Timmy's. To be frank, working with Bloom is a lot like working with my husband, as the work of Sparx tends to directly correspond with Eraklyon's. After I casually mentioned the problem of finding a way to ensure only the passage of non-hostile ships, Timmy locked himself in his office for the rest of the night, drawing the blueprints of the Timecna Travel Agency.

What's revolutionary about this Travel Agency is that it can only enter Sparx when scheduled, and that if the need ever arises, the setting can be adjusted to only allow leaving, and not allow anything inside. Of course, the ships are incredibly hard-to-manage ("If they were easy, Tecna, anyone could just steal one and get inside Sparx!"). I even have trouble from time to time.

It's worked, much to our satisfaction. Rather, rather well.

I swiveled in my chair round and round as I eyed the glowing buttons and knobs with a familiar swell of pride. I had built this incredible creation. Me, Tecna. I didn't think a day would go by without me admiring my handiwork—my life's achievement.

"Hey, Tecna!"

Bloom leaned against my chair with a grin, and flicked back her long, fiery red curls. The trials of high school had given her an almost regal bearing, and I blinked at her—it's a terribly dark room at times—before I returned the smile. "Ah, Bloom, it's unusual to see you at this time of day. How is everything?"

"Everything is honestly amazing," Bloom admitted, eyeing my work office. "Wow, Tecna, I still don't know how you remember which button does what. I'm almost afraid I'd blow something up if I clicked anything!"

"Oh, I highly doubt that." I chuckled. "I trust the meeting with the representatives of the Fifth Moon of Marigold went well?"

"Incredibly. Once they saw how well Tides, Solaria, and Eraklyon were doing trading with us, they just had to agree. Our economy is going to do awesome!" She winked. "And it helps that Flora put in a good word for us."

"Oh, I'm sure that had a little something to do with it." I knew Bloom well enough that I could see just how terribly she was itching to talk about something other than politics and technology and economics, so I sighed and asked, "I suppose that's not why you're here, is it?"

"Well, no. I mean, I wanted to tell you that, but there's something else." She cocked her head at me. "Is everything okay between you and Timmy?"

My husband's name startled me. "T-Timmy and I?" I sputtered. "Bloom, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Everything is fine between us."

"But you haven't even interrupted me to talk about all your plans with him tomorrow for your birthday!" she blurted out. "I mean, I'm not going to drive it out of you if you don't want to tell me, but you're obviously not doing something with the girls and I, so I'm just curious if you're doing anything at all." Bloom stared at me and gave me a weak smile. "And you've been swinging your leg as you swivel in that chair, which makes me think something's up."

"I most certainly do not swing my leg, Bloom!" I retorted as I planted both feet on the ground. "And to be honest, I…have no idea what I'm doing tomorrow. Timmy is being most mysterious on the subject, and I suspect it's because I was quite rude to him on his own birthday. Frankly, I forgot tomorrow was my birthday at all until you mentioned it."

Terribly humiliating, that. I should know the day I was born, shouldn't I? It was so unlike me, being this unorganized. Maybe I'd forgotten to check my calendar, or perhaps the tune-ups on the S.D.W. were draining me more than I knew.

Yet Timmy hadn't forgotten. What had he said, again? 'Don't make any plans for tomorrow'?

"Well, even if you forgot, I'm letting you have the day off, Tecna," Bloom assured me. "And if Timmy's being mysterious, well, maybe he's just planning a big surprise for you?"

As much as I love Bloom, she hadn't the foggiest idea how rare surprises can be in a marriage. She and Sky had remained in a perpetual high-school-romance ever since graduation, and had been engaged for so long people started to whisper that maybe the bride was getting cold feet. On the contrary, Bloom had insisted she wouldn't become Queen of Eraklyon until Sparx was completely restored. (When that happens, it's possible either I or my husband will be out of a job. I'd rather not think too much about it, though; plus, I can't imagine Bloom or Sky having the heart to fire either of us.)

"Maybe…he's decided to take me to the arcade?" I added, trying to sound optimistic. The word arcade came out flat on my tongue, and Bloom gave me a quizzical look.

"An arcade? Really? Sky always takes me to these posh places, like exotic beaches, or fancy restaurants. I always end up ordering things that I can't even pronounce, but they're just so delicious! Sky is such a sappy romantic," she giggled. "But I think it's totally sweet of him."

The chances of Timmy transforming into a sappy romantic in my lifetime were second to none. But I didn't tell Bloom that.

"Perhaps it'll be better than I expect," I conceded, and for the rest of the day I tried to block images of well-to-do restaurants and resorts from my mind. Timmy could have learned from my little temper tantrum, but that was laughable. People didn't remake themselves so completely so soon. And besides, there was something endearing about Timmy constantly blundering and erring in the ways of social behavior; it was one of the things I loved best about him.

Still. If tomorrow I woke up to see a mature and romantic breakfast for two, I'm fairly sure I'd love him even more.

* * *

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Now?"

"Tecna, I said no! Now stand still for a second."

The warm touch of his hands on my face vanished as he pulled away, the odd sounds of objects clunking together the only clue as to what the Magix my husband was doing. I was tempted to open an eye, but being a stickler for rules everywhere, opted not to. While the world was dark and blind, this could still be a trip to the Resort Realm. Dinner at the palace of Tides. A long romantic walk around all our old haunts.

"Okay…open them!"

Light blinded my eyes and I gasped, at first perceiving a big, beautiful airship and instantly forgiving him for all my misconceptions. A vacation, just the two of us, a _vacation_! "Oh, Timmy!" I cried, flinging my arms about him. "It's wonderful!"

"I knew you could appreciate it," my husband chuckled. "It's a little rusty, and the controls don't work, but that's the fun part."

"The…fun part?"

My forgiveness was slowly being replaced with skepticism. I pulled away from him, and glanced once more at my present. Oh, it was a ship alright: a dying, absolutely useless piece of junk useful for only rebuilding and part-scavenging. A technical challenge, not a day at the beach.

"Isn't it sophisticated?" Timmy pressed. "Isn't it a mature gift?"

"Erm…" Sophisticated, no. Mature, no.

But at the very least, it's not an arcade.

* * *

**End Note: **Bwahaha. I hope Tecna isn't OOC here, but I can see her struggling with Timmy's inner child and her own desire to have a normal relationship for once. Also, do expect the genre to be Romance/Humor/Adventure, because later on, there shall, indeed, be adventure. And the other Winx girls will all get to shine.

(Oh, and snaps to anyone who wasn't bored to death by the S.W.D. explanation. It's necessary, promise.)

Review if it pleases you. :D


	2. Chapter 2: Boiling Point

**Note:** Aah, I love this story, lovelovelove, and adore writing it. It's so fun, so silly, and while it's serious, it doesn't take itself seriously. Which is a story-form I haven't written in a while, so I adore it. XD Thanks to all reviewers: you guys are about as awesome as it gets!

**Chapter Two: Boiling Point**

"He gave you a piece of _junk_?!"

Stella's outburst caused a few neighboring café-goers to glance our way, but I shrugged and turned back to my food. "Well, it was an honest effort," I conceded as I took a sip of strawberry daiquiri. "Naturally, he thought it would be a good bonding experience, working together on something like that…"

"But Stella's right—this is your birthday, not a science fair!" Bloom added. "I can understand why you want to be okay with it, Tecna, but to be honest I think there's some kind of miscommunication between you two. You don't sound too happy about it, you know?"

Well, that certainly wasn't an understatement. I'd gone to bed rather disappointed the night before, and it wasn't just because dinner had been cold.

"Nabu and I, we're usually on the same page about these kinds of things," Layla admitted with a sigh. She propped her chin on her hand as she looked up at me thoughtfully. "It's easier for us, because we're so alike: we both love the outdoors, we both love the same bands, and there's never been that kind of friction between us. I guess Timmy thought he was doing something you both loved. You can't really hold that against him."

"I'm not holding anything _against_ him," I protested. "I'm just disappointed a bit. We never do anything romantic together, you see, and I'm just…tired…of the same old things. I just wish he'd catch on to that. That's all."

Flora smiled at me and took my hand to squeeze lightly. "Oh, sweetie, give him time. I'm sure if you keep encouraging him to try new things, you'll find a happy medium."

"Men just don't know how to be romantic on their own," Stella announced decisively. "I love Brandon, but if I didn't schedule all our dates and reservations for Magix's finest dining, well, I'd be attacked by the paparazzi for stooping down to fast food. And I'm _so_ staying away from carbs." She stole a French fry from Layla and grinned. "Starting tomorrow."

"So anyway, Bloom, how're the wedding plans going?" Flora inquired. "I've heard Sparx is doing amazingly well. You and Sky should be ready to unite the kingdoms soon, then, right?"

Bloom blushed despite herself; I guess it's always been strange, talking about marriage to us married women. Why, if you'd asked me years ago, I would have deemed Bloom the first of us to the tie the knot. Who knew she'd wind up the last?

"We're thinking June, maybe," the redhead said. "It's going to be real elaborate though—very royal."

"Well, duh!" Stella exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Eraklyon and Sparx? We're talking major royal mingling here! Of course everything's going to be top quality!"

Flora and I exchanged glances and tiny smiles. I could remember all too well the petite flower-enshrined chapel in which she and Helia were wed, and the quick informal wedding that Timmy and I shared on a city rooftop. To have a wedding like Bloom seemed to be planning—well, it would have driven us both mad.

"Hey, any of you hear from Musa?" Layla asked us as Stella and Bloom continued to chatter about decorations and such. "I called her cell, but she didn't answer. You think she extended her tour or something?"

"Maybe she forgot we were meeting up?" Flora offered with a shrug.

"I'm sure she has a good reason for not coming to lunch with us," I assured them. Quite frankly, though, I hadn't a clue what that good reason could be.

* * *

"I'm home, darling!"

I tossed my purse and coat onto the kitchen table and eased myself into a chair with a groan. It was at that odd time of day—when lunch is over, but it's too early for dinner, and only reruns are playing on television. Timmy usually beat me home, and I'd see him watching some reruns of a canceled reality TV show: _So You Think You Can Invent_. He'd been rooting for the underdog, a tiny soft-spoken girl with wide glasses and a squeaky voice. Me, I found the pragmatic fellow from Melody to be far more capable, but eh. Different strokes and all that. We could always go online and find out the winner, but that'd be cheating, and we've always been pretty straight-laced, us two.

Today, however, the TV was blank, so I made my way through the house suspiciously. "Timmy? Honey?" The sound of metal clinking reached my ears, and I laughed wryly to myself.

Of course. The garage. My _birthday_ _present_.

"Hey, Tecna!" my husband beamed at me, his smudged cheeks a faint shade of red. "I, uh, hope you don't mind that I started working on it before you came home. It's just—I can barely keep myself away from anything in need of technical attention, you know?" He chuckled. "But don't worry; I saved you the good parts."

I glanced at the pile of gadgets and raised an eyebrow. "Timmy…this is what you use for the Timecna Travel Agency ships, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He wiped his brow. "Well, it'd be nice to take this baby to work, wouldn't it?"

"It wouldn't be scheduled."

"Well, it could be an exception to the rule, right? You work there, honey. You'll need to come and go."

"This is too dangerous," I protested, shaking my head. Somehow, seeing my husband smiling at me so cluelessly just…._ate_ at me, kept dredging up feelings of bitterness and disappointment that, frankly, I wished I could hold at bay. Images of Flora with Helia, Stella with Brandon, and Bloom with Sky tore at me, sneering at me: "_See, something's wrong with you. Your husband isn't like them. He's different._ You're _different. It's illogical; it's wrong."_ I didn't _like_ seeing Timmy in this light; I never had. "What if someone stole it, Timmy? Bloom could have a weak point—"

"Darling, I think it'll be fine."

"But she's a danger magnet!" I moaned. "If there's only one ship in the cosmos that can sneak in and out through the S.D.W. at will, then someone will eventually steal it and use it against her! Timmy, I understand you're trying to help, but this…this has too many holes."

"She doesn't exactly live in a bubble, Tecna."

"But we're _trying_ to build her a bubble!"

It was foolish, but I felt like now I wasn't only annoyed at Timmy, but furious at _Bloom_—why was it I was always covering for her, protecting her, saving her? She had the Dragon Fire; she didn't need me! It was ridiculous to think she couldn't handle any attacks against her home—bordering on laughable, actually. But Bloom wasn't here, so I fueled my anger by glaring daggers at Timmy instead.

"Honey, fine, maybe we can just make a normal airship," he consented.

"Make your own ship," I retorted, stomping off to the kitchen and slamming the garage door shut. It shuddered on its hinges, and I looked about me in distaste, wondering if anger ate you up like a fire: all-consuming, blind to safety and right-and-wrong. I wondered when exactly this illogical feeling would die within me, when right now it felt as if it choked me so terribly I couldn't breathe.

The remote found itself in my hands and I clicked it absentmindedly, just in time to see Timmy's mumbly girl win the prize for most innovative invention.

Drat. As if I wasn't annoyed enough; now he'd won our unofficial bet. I was going to miss those ten dollars very much.

"T-Tecna?"

I shut my eyes. "Not now, Timmy. Just…not now."

He gave me one lasting look of longing before drawing away, and it wasn't until night fell that I realized I'd banished myself to this couch, for a reason as stupid as arguing itself.

* * *

"Why yes, Bloom, I'm quite sick." I coughed into the phone's speaker for emphasis, all while punching in buttons on my microwave to bake me something yummy. I needed comfort food. _Now_. "No, I shouldn't, really. It's contagious. Terribly. You could get it, and I'd hate to mess with your engagement plans. No, don't be silly, Bloom! I _don't_ sound fine; the phone is messing with my voice. I assure you, I sound dreadful."

Poking my head into my pantry, I frowned—why was there no chocolate in this house?!—and coughed again. "See, I sound pathetic. I told you. Now, I believe my fever is rising, so I'll be going…I need my rest. Oh, quite, quite, I'll get better soon." I paused as I read the label on a pack of vanilla pudding. "Hopefully."

So I owed Bloom the truth as my employer, maybe. And maybe I'd been the one always telling people that lying and cheating were the most deplorable things imaginable. But that was before I had a day so in need of sugary sweetness as today, and what Bloom didn't know wouldn't hurt her. The last thing I wanted was to give her nightmares about her own marriage with Sky…or invite over a whole Winx Club of girls who would insist on patching things up between us like it was some ordinary little high school romance, and not a marriage in need of some fine-tuning. After all, this was a _serious_ issue, and should be settled just as seriously.

"Ooh! Brownies!"

A light _ping _sounded as the glorious smell of warm chocolate filled the room (the last of my secret stash, as luck would have it) and I immediately dug in with my fork, only to burn my tongue. It's hard to think logically when your mind is elsewhere…which is why I hate arguing so much. It makes processing so much more difficult, which makes my job at Sparx become the Omega Dimension of careers. Could anyone blame me for ditching?

Timmy had gone to work, something I found both comforting and troubling. I didn't like being the spouse who sat home and stuffed chocolate into her mouth when she realized she couldn't bite her tongue; I _wanted_ to be the one going to work, calm and collected, leaving my husband behind as he threw himself into tinkering machines to silence his guilt.

Which I was doing, now, instead of him. With chocolate instead of tinkering machinery.

Ashamed, I dropped my fork and sighed. Maybe I did need a second opinion. And maybe this was a pretty stupid reason to fight. I didn't like fighting; it drained me. So I considered my options.

I could dash to my closet, dress in my cutest fairy outfit, and wait for him in the bedroom—but Timmy wouldn't appreciate my use of the sheets as a band-aid. No, Timmy preferred words for this sort of thing…which used to be my forte, until I realized how powerful actions could be.

So, then, who was good at words?

"Musa?" I cradled the cell phone against my ear and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I hope you get this message soon, because I am simply beside myself at the moment…I've done something stupid, and now Timmy and I are fighting, and I need your advice. I'd be grateful for your help. Bye, Tecna."

Of course. The answering machine. See, this is why phones are my least favorite form of technology. (Though that doesn't mean much; my list changes periodically.)

Once more defeated, I threw myself on my couch—my loyal, trustworthy, party-of-one couch—and went back to the drawing board. Maybe I didn't need words. Maybe I needed some sort of…what's that word Stella uses? Therapy? Immediately I shuddered at the thought; therapy was for people so dumb that they couldn't handle their own problems. Timmy and I had an IQ above the average specialist and fairy. Why would we ask some shrink for help, I ask you?

We'd have to be desperate. Incredibly desperate.

Or, we could just call a good friend instead, who wouldn't label smart people such as ourselves under a derogatory term like "desperate" so readily.

"_Hey, sweetie, what is it?"_

"Flora, have you and Helia ever gotten into a fight?" I blurted out. The silence on the other end was deafening, and immediately I cursed my bluntness. "I mean, maybe not now, but once, at least, over something silly and pointless and…"

"_Um, a few things, Tecna, but nothing unmanageable." _I could almost hear her inner conflict traveling over the phone's static as she paused once more. _"Is something wrong with you and Timmy? I thought you two were doing better?"_

"Well, it's not so much us two as it is…me," I admitted. I glanced about to make sure no one was listening—paranoid fairy that I am—and confessed to the phone, "It's not such a terrible fuss, but I got angry with him over something trivial, and next thing I know I'm sleeping on the couch by my own choice. Me, Flora! _I've_ put _myself_ on the couch!"

"_Tecna, are you okay? You sound like you need to lie down and think this over—"_

"Tell that to Bloom," I mumbled. "I told her I was sick today."

"…_You…what?"_ I think I heard a gasp on the other end. _"Tecna, you've never skipped work without a valid reason. This is getting serious."_

"I don't know about that—"

"_Sweetie, you're pretending to be sick and kicking yourself out of your own bedroom. I'm worried. Listen, I'm going to talk with Helia, and we're going to figure out something for you and Timmy—something that will fix whatever's wrong between you. You love him, don't you?"_

"…Very much," I sighed.

"_Well, then, that settles it. I'll call you once we get an idea. Oh, and I won't tell anyone else; I'm sure you'd like to keep this between as few people as possible, right, Tecna?"_

I _do_ love Flora. Ever so much.

Phone hung up, I sat myself down at the kitchen table and smiled as I contemplated all the ways to channel my now-happy mood. I could tidy up the kitchen to surprise Timmy, or tell him I recorded the winning episode of _So You Think You Can Invent_, or I could bake more brownies and keep the good mood going.

I was about to do option three when something unexpected happened: the doorbell rang. "Who is it?" I called as I pushed the doorway's speaker button.

"Musa," a miserable voice replied. "Now let me in, Tec. It's raining rabbits and ducklings out here."

So I opened the door to see a fairy soaked from head-to-toe, her pigtails limp against her shoulders and her blue eyes afire with fury. More importantly, I found myself noticing the bag over her right shoulder—a _traveling_ bag.

"Are you…alright?" I managed to say, when she looked anything but.

Musa gave me a wry grin, before handing me her bag and asking, "Do you miss the days when we used to share a dorm? Well, guess what. Riven kicked me out. So those days are back again."

* * *

**End Note:** So let's now tack on "drama" to the end of our majorly long genre list: it's now a Romance/Humor/Adventure/Drama/Thing. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to sneak in Western at some point if I'm _really_ ambitious! (Uh, I'm kidding. Really.)


	3. Chapter 3: Just Desserts

**Note: **Squee, this is just…yay! I'm sorry. I'm a broken record, I know, but I love writing this. I do, I do. xD Many thanks to all reviewers, and thank you to other nameless readers. You all are amazing. It's official.

**Chapter Three: Just Desserts**

"Riven's always had a bad temperament, you know?"

Musa smiled at me weakly from my now-party-of-two couch as she helped herself to a brownie. "I guess I should've seen it coming, though," she continued through a mouthful of chocolate, and the fact that I could actually understand her while eating said more about our friendship than any villain-bashing could. "I mean, I threw the _stereo_ at him."

"You…you _what_?" I stammered out. Timmy could be a frustrating fellow, but I'd never toss that birthday present of his at his head. For one thing, I've been eating more brownies than working out lately. For another, I'd probably apologize like mad afterwards.

"He was asking for it, Tec!" Musa insisted, cramming in another brownie. "We've been having stupid arguments off-and-on for a while…and with my tour, we haven't been able to hang out as much. Which bites, but whenever we _do_ have time together, he acts all weird. Like, he starts bashing on my job, saying it's no big deal, when he knows it means the _world_ to me!"

She blinked her blue eyes, wet with tears, and I realized with a sinking feeling I'd need more brownies.

"So I told him to back off, that I didn't get on to _him_ about his dream job as an Elite." Musa sniffled, my eyes longingly following the last brownie as she brought it to her mouth. _Drat_. "And then he got really mad, and he started…_insulting_ me, Tecna, complaining about the dumbest things, like my growing out my hair to get more male fans (which is so not true) or being just another cookie-cutter pop star (when you _know_ I totally dance to my own beat) and saying my job was all about making people like me and nothing that actually mattered in life. So after listening to him trash me for a good ten minutes, I bite back, and tell him if he won't shut up, I'll make him."

"So the stereo…?"

"Mhm." She hugged her arms close around herself and nodded. "I just…I couldn't _take_ it anymore, Tecna. It was cute at first, but now it's getting personal. And I need space."

Well, things rarely got more personal than tossing appliances at people's faces, so I nodded in agreement. The only troubling thing was the space Musa needed was…well…_my_ space. Which normally wouldn't be an issue, except the guest couch was currently occupado. Plus, after hearing her go on about a _legitimate_ reason to fight with her spouse, I didn't feel quite so keen on complaining about my pointless birthday blues.

"I knew you'd let me in, Tec," my friend beamed, refusing to let her sadness show as she dabbed her cheeks. "I mean, I thought about asking Layla, but…we've been friends since freshman year, Tecna. We're practically sisters. I couldn't ask anyone but you to take me in. It wouldn't feel right."

"Er…I mean…" Oh, great. Lovely. My best friend came to me to find a shoulder to cry on, and all I could think about was how the heck I was going to kick her out nicely. What was I supposed to say?: "_Certainly, stay here as long as you like! And don't mind the senseless bickering you might hear from time-to-time; it's just me and my husband arguing over whether or not arcades are romantic. Oh, and I hope you don't mind sleeping on the floor_._ Ever since stupid argument number two, I've taken the couch._"

"Something wrong, Tecna?" Musa inquired, sitting up abruptly. "Am I…is something up I don't know about? If I'm imposing, I'll totally leave—"

"No, you're not imposing, no!" I protested (that stupid reverse psychology of hers was getting to me, darn it). "I'm just…well…unsure as to how…Timmy…will take this." Aha! Loophole! Pointing to the husband was always an easy route out of the blame game.

The singer laughed and shook her head. "Tecna, you can be hilarious sometimes, you know? Timmy, turning down anyone who needs help? Yeah. Sure."

Of all the husbands I could've had, I just _had_ to choose the one who built high-tech shelters for stray puppies and kitty cats, didn't I?

"Erm…well…" I cleared my throat as my brain went on overdrive, trying to process all the logical responses that could best convey my bizarre position to my best friend. "Musa?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like some more brownies?"

* * *

After setting Musa in front of an entire season's worth of _So You Think You Can Invent_ with brownies to keep her busy, I paced my kitchen in desperate thought. Logically, there were three options. One: I told her the truth, she became disgusted with my shallow problems, and ran off to Layla in a huff. Two: I made up with Timmy in a miraculous two hours by showing up at work and singing his praises like a complete and total kiss-up. Three was currently my favorite: improvisation. Logical, no. Convenient, yes.

"Hey, I know that guy!" Musa exclaimed from the other room. "That guy. From Melody. He went to school with me." She pointed a chocolaty finger at the screen, and I poked in my head to see it aimed at my choice contestant.

"Ah! You knew him?" I exclaimed, slightly pleased I wasn't the only one with a good judge of character. Timmy's pick may have won, but _I_ had more people on my side.

"Yeah." Her pigtails bounced as she nodded. "He was a total creep. Weird as all get out. I hope he loses. Does he, Tec?"

My shoulders slumped. "It's just a show, Musa," I mumbled as I turned back to pace and ponder once more. "It's not as if it matters."

I leaned against the wall and sighed, letting all my disappointment out. What a mess. What a horrid, horrid mess one little disagreement had set in motion! Or two, if you thought about it. Maybe three. I wasn't quite sure anymore. But if Timmy would just grow up and start acting his age—

_Ba-da, ba-dum! Ring ring ring! Ba-da, ba-dum! Ring ring ring!_

"Oh my—!" My whole body jumped about a foot as the cell phone in my pocket began to sound off in quick vibrations and jerks. Pulling it out hurriedly and dodging curious glances from Musa, I crept into the back room. "Who is it?" I hissed. _Don't be Timmy, don't be Timmy, don't be Timmy…_

"_It's Flora, Tecna. Helia and I have been talking, and we have an idea."_

Praise be to Linpheans. "That's wonderful news," I replied, genuinely grateful. "I haven't a clue what to do, myself."

"_Oh, it's stressful, I'm sure. Fights are never fun."_

"That they are not." Some rustling outside the room distracted me, and I shooed away Musa as she glanced inside the doorway. "On the phone—one moment, Musa."

"_Musa's at your place?"_

I sighed; way to go, Tecna. Great subtlety, right here. "Well, er, yes."

"_Riven's been looking for her, you know. Layla told me he called for her, and that I ought to be on the lookout for him coming. You know Layla; she suspects something's up. And naturally, she's taken Musa's side."_

"There are sides?" I began, before shaking my head. "Wait, no. The solution. We were talking about the solution to my problem."

"_Well, of course there are sides. Apparently, Riven's been in a tough spot lately, what with the Elitists falling apart… Financially, I'm sure he and Musa will be fine due to her job, but I suspect poor Riven's lost more pride than pay."_

I raised an eyebrow; Riven had been fired? That explained his nasty mood towards my singing friend all too well. Poor Musa had wound up his punching bag…metaphorically, anyway. After all, I suspected Riven had more bruises than _she_ did after their little fight. "Oh, that's dreadful. But—wait, Flora, the _solution_. The solution you and Helia had come up with for me and Timmy?"

"_Ah! Yes, yes, of course…sorry, sweetie. Now, we were talking, and Helia said maybe you needed more time together."_

"Time?"

"_Mhm. Alone time, with no outside distractions. I agree, actually. You're always so stressed, Tecna—your work takes its toll on you. Bloom's a dear, but a job like that could drive anyone over the edge, including you and Timmy. So you need…a vacation."_

I let the thought soak for a moment before replying. "A vacation…just the two of us?"

It made sense. If my job was what made me so crabby, then a vacation could cure that. If we didn't spend enough time together, well, this could fix that, too. If I suspected Timmy was having more fun playing videogames than playing husband, where would he get a GameStation 360 all the way in the middle of a resort?

"The Resort Realm would be ideal…" I murmured, the plan already spinning in my mind. "Yes, no magic, no technology, just us. Flora, dare I say it, you may be the actual genius of the Winx Club."

A giggle crackled through the static. _"Tecna, it's enough to know that you're going to do something about this. I worry for you, being upset. It's not like you. Just try to patch things up as best as you can, okay?"_

"Oh, fine." I smiled. "Thank you again, Flora. So much."

"_Anytime. Bye, Tecna."_

The call ended. With a spring in my step, I started towards the living room again to see Musa, her brownies gone and the TV off. She turned slowly and smiled awkwardly at me. "So." She cleared her throat. "I, uh, decided to check my phone, too."

In offering, she held a tiny pink phone towards me, and I heard a familiar voice speak through the answering machine: _"Musa? I hope you get this message soon, because I am simply beside myself at the moment…I've done something stupid, and now Timmy and I are fighting, and I need your advice. I'd be grateful for your help. Bye, Tecna."_

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Uh. I suppose I did say that, didn't I?"

"You kinda did." Musa patted the space beside her on the couch and bit her lip. "I think…we need to talk, Tec. Like, now."

* * *

"Men are just spoiled, you know?" Musa sighed, curled up under a blanket with me just as if this were a slumber party. "They always expect you to be sitting there, smiling as always, and putting dinner on their plate. The moment _you_ aren't happy with something, it's immediately your fault…and when _they're_ not happy with something, it's your fault, too. Such hypocrites."

Her support had been an unexpected gem, sparkling just a bit too brightly to convince me it was genuine. I'd been expecting something a bit more cynical, more along the lines of, "Tecna, you idiot, why would you fight with Timmy over something as stupid as _that_?"

But no, here we were: two women swapping discontent and stories as if they were childhood crushes and gossip. "What frustrates me is how one thing can drive you absolutely bonkers, and it can roll off their back like nothing," I added. "Like forgetting to replace toilet paper rolls—"

"Oh, I _hate_ that!" Musa agreed. "Or when they forget to restock the fridge when they have the last soda—no, no, that's not the worst of it. How many days can you get through life without hearing, 'Honey, where's my…?' Honestly."

"It's ridiculous the things we do for them." I ducked my head and began to fiddle with fringes of the blanket, Timmy's funny smile coming to mind. _"Whoops, did I do that?" _he'd apologize with that grin each and every time. _"I'll fix it right away, Tecna." _I smiled despite myself. "Maybe it's because, well, we love them."

A strange silence settled between us, and Musa nodded, squeezing my hand. "Yeah. It's pretty unfair that we do. But hey, you can fix this up, right? Me and Riven…oh, Tec, I don't know anymore about us. But you're in the stage where you _can_, Tecna. So just promise me you're going to do something about it, before you chuck a stereo at poor Timmy's head?"

"Despite your influence, Musa, I highly doubt that will happen," I laughed. "And if this vacation goes well, then—"

"What's this about a vacation?"

Silence descended over the room like an ominous cloud as my husband entered the room, the door shutting soundlessly behind him. His beautiful topaz eyes darted from Musa to myself then back to Musa as he bit back a thousand questions, waiting for his first one to be answered.

"Uh." I crossed my arms. "Well."

"Oh, it's really no big deal," Musa piped up, and I turned to her in either surprise or gratitude—maybe both. "See, Flora just won a vacation for two, but her schedule's all filled up, so she's dropped it on you and Tec. Isn't that something?"

_Just go with it, _she mouthed. I didn't have to be told twice.

"The Resort Realm," I added. "It'll, um, be a nice way to get away from it all. Don't you think?" My voice cracked.

"Wow, really? But—wait, then why is Musa here?" Timmy inquired. I turned towards my friend again desperately.

"Why are you here?" I whispered urgently.

"O-oh, I'm here to…house-sit. Yeah. That's it." Musa grinned. "To make sure nobody breaks in or whatever while you're gone."

I always knew befriending a group of girls prone to lying would someday merit some good. Thank you, Griselda, for keeping us on our toes!

"That's awfully nice of you, Musa," Timmy exclaimed, and I practically melted at his innocent demeanor. This was too easy; it felt almost criminal. "But won't Riven mind?"

"Riven?" The name came out in a laugh, a guffaw of surprise. "Well." She smirked, leaning back on the couch, and commented, "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

* * *

"Honey, are you sure about this?"

"Mhm. I know bikinis aren't my traditional form of swimwear, but I figure I'll have to wear this Spella McCartney from Stella sometime," I replied, folding my clothes. I could feel Timmy's stare burn through my back, and I shut my eyes, forcing myself to ignore it.

"No, not the swimsuit. I _mean_, Tecna, are you sure about going on vacation?" He placed his arm around me and frowned, worry creasing his forehead in five perfect lines. "I mean, lately, you and I…well, it's my fault, I guess…haven't exactly been on the same wavelength. If…if you want…" He swallowed, and I stared at him wide-eyed, a little shocked by his change in mood. "If you want," he continued, "you can go on this vacation yourself. Last night…I know you wanted to be alone. Nothing's really changed since then, has it? I don't want to force you to be with me if you don't want to."

_I_, my mind thought in horror, _must be the most ungrateful and selfish woman in the world._

"Oh, Timmy…" I sighed, placing my hand upon his cheek. "Oh, Timmy, don't say that. It's not all that bad. I mean…we could…this could be good for us. More time together to sort everything out. It's _fate_, darling." In reassurance, I planted a kiss on his cheek and added, "And you know what?"

"What?"

I grinned. "I've been thinking about it, and I think we don't need _two_ sleeping bags, now do we?"

Who says we don't think on the same wavelength?


	4. Chapter 4: Mayday

**Note: **Update! I'm so happy that I can keep up with this ficcy, you've got no idea. I was scared I'd drop it. I don't think it'll be too long, though…maybe past ten chapters, but shorter than twenty. Shorter than fifteen, if I'm being brutally honest. Thanks to all my inspiring reviewers and readers, and please enjoy chapter four!

**Chapter Four: Mayday**

"I wish we had some wine."

I chuckled, Timmy being terribly predictable. In a peace offering, I had suggested we go to the Resort Realm by means of my not-so-new airship, and in a bit of geeky nostalgia that I find adorable, my husband insisted we send her maiden voyage off with a bottle of wine like in the olden days.

"We haven't even named her yet," I laughed, shaking my head. "What good will it do without that?"

"It's your ship, honey. The name is your choice."

So I pursed my lips in thought, a thousand suitable titles coming to mind before coming up with, "_Anticipation_."

"That's it?" He adjusted his glasses in thought, clearly stunned. "What about the _Tecna Express_?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "The _Anticipation_ will do. I figure…I'm in a hurry to get to somewhere I'm not, right? So _Anticipation_."

Snuggled close beside each other on our ride, I kept my eyes glued to the windows, fighting the urge to look at the keypad. Timmy was driving, and I didn't feel as if I had any right to ask to be co-pilot; not after these past few days. But we smiled, we made small-talk; we pretended this giant elephant of discontent wasn't sitting between us.

"Hey, Tecna?"

"Mhm?"

Timmy licked his dry lips, turning towards me before ducking away. "…Ah, nothing. I just, I thought we were there, but we're not."

"Understandable." Terribly fidgety today, wasn't he? I crossed my legs and without realizing it began to swing one left to right, a steady pendulum of impatience going back and forth. "Um, Timmy, you know…" No. No, no, no, I was not going to badger him about his driving. Not after all the progress I had just made. "Try and go left at the river, okay?"

Drat.

Luckily, Timmy took my advice with a light heart, and we continued through the sky with a fairly decent mood. "So, when we get there, what do you want to do?" I asked finally.

"The Resort Realm?"

"Yes."

He scratched his chin in thought, eyes squinting as they stared ahead. "Well, gosh, Tecna, I don't know. We'll set up the tent, and I guess we'll see what happens next. But I'm sure we'll have fun." He paused. "Hey, Tecna?"

"Hm?"

"About Musa…she's, um, okay all by herself?" Something darkened in Timmy's expression. "She seemed a little out of it. Are she and Riven okay?"

"O-oh…well." I squeezed my husband's hand and bit my lip. "They could be better, Timmy. Much, much better."

The glasses slid down his nose. "Ah."

When we landed, neither us were brave enough to add: _Just like us._

* * *

The Resort Realm is, basically, a woodland area dotted with beaches. My husband landed the _Anticipation_ in a sunlit clearing, a short distance away from the shore. Immediately a feeling of nostalgia coupled with a strange ache settled within me as I remembered, vaguely, the aftereffects of this place—something I had learned all too well my sophomore year at Alfea.

For any magical being, the Resort Realm is a pleasant break from not only the everyday world, but magic as well. Only a full-fledged fairy can withstand the restraint on magical ability this dimension has, and even though I did indeed have my Enchantrix, the power I possessed weakened all the same.

Still. I wouldn't need my Winx to save my marriage, now would I?

Timmy had parked and I, ever practical, had decided to take it upon myself to set up the tent. When I say set up the tent, I mean, basically, that I pulled out a tiny box that popped up into a clean little shelter at the push of a button. (Layla would be ashamed of my lack of rugged outdoorsman-ship, but I, for one, don't think she needs to know about it.) I circled the makeshift home impatiently as Timmy continued to do Magix-knows-what by the airship.

I rehearsed the conversation in my head: _Timmy, now that we're alone, what do you want to do? _But for the life of me, I couldn't picture his answer. Hadn't it been ages since we'd bothered to do anything outside of technology and videogames? I watched him struggle with our luggage and wondered, briefly, what my husband loved that didn't involve metal or electricity. There had to be something, surely.

_Like me._

"Your heart is absolutely beating with love, Tecna! It's wonderful!"

Immediately I froze, the shrill voice from behind awakening me from my reverie with startling speed. "Who's there?" I demanded, and instead of a sharp gasp of fear, a giggle reached my ears.

"Can you believe her? She doesn't remember, not even after all we've been through…I expected her to think more logically than this."

"Tee-hee! Well, love isn't always logical."

"That's Tecna's _problem_."

And suddenly it hit me with the strength of a thousand convergences; my guard fell, and I turned, in wonder, to see two familiar tiny faces. "Digit?! Amore?!"

Indeed, the little pixies were there, Stella's little carrier of love floating behind my very own Digit. Why, I hadn't seen Digit ever since marrying Timmy—she and the others had moved back to Pixie Village when all of the Winx Club got married off, save Bloom. Now, to see her there, with her adorable heart-shaped face and intelligent eyes…

"Digit, what on Magix are you up to?" I accused. All the same, I returned her hug when she tackled me in an embrace, and ran my hands through her soft blue locks. "You silly little pixie, why are you all the way out here?"

"Isn't it obvious, Tecna?" my pixie insisted, rolling her eyes. "Think about it. What would I be doing here, at the same time as you and Timmy, with the pixie of love?"

Amore nodded sagely. "It's a very special mission, Tecna. Why, Flora told us everything."

Immediately the warm fuzzies at seeing Digit faded, and I held her at arm's length, incensed. "Flora…_Flora_ told you to…to…?!" I couldn't even form the words.

"Why don't you just say it, Tecna?" Digit replied, smiling. "We're your _chaperones_!"

I could blame the heat, or the long voyage, but I think it was the fact that I was a married, full-grown, intelligent, and influential woman being babied by pixies that made me faint in the sun.

* * *

"Tecna? Are you okay?"

Groggy and disoriented, I blinked my eyes open, the world still a foggy blur. A kind face stood before me, and I smiled lazily—of course, I was home now. "Timmy?" I murmured. "Oh, Timmy, I had the worst dream. You and I were arguing, and I had to lie to get you to go on a marriage-renewal posing as a vacation with me, and then, oh, Digit and Amore showed up to supervise us—it was dreadful, dreadful."

"Oh, I don't know about _dreadful_." A giggle.

A shove. "Tecna, get up. You're acting like a lunatic, not a valedictorian."

Little hands nudged me, and to my complete disappointment, Digit was the one shoving me, and not my husband. Of _course_ everything was real. Drat. Sitting up, I noticed I was inside the tent, and Amore was drinking tea with Digit by her side. "I must say," Stella's pixie announced, "this whole thing is terribly romantic. Swooning is in all the novels—but it would have been better timing if you'd swooned when Timmy was here. Well, either way, he carried you inside, so I suppose it worked."

For a moment my heart fluttered. "Timmy carried me inside? Really?" Then just as quickly it shattered. "Now he'll know I've gained weight. Fabulous."

"You see?" Digit insisted, poking me. "Something's wrong with Tecna! Weight is something that, logically, should only be worried about in regard to health. Tecna is being _illogical_! No wonder Flora called us. This is serious."

"Now, hold on a moment," I retorted, stung. "I love you, Digit, but one day when you find a boy pixie to love and to hold—"

"And now she's forgetting that pixies are all _girls_!" Digit moaned. "Amore, this is terrible, terrible! If we don't fix their marriage—fast!—the Tecna we know and love will be gone forever! Oh, my poor brain just can't take this, Amore, not at all."

"Drama-pixie," I muttered as Amore patted Digit on the head. I was being completely logical. Absolutely logical. When hadn't I been? Why, I had reasons for being mad at Timmy, didn't I? And reasons for fighting, calling in sick when I wasn't, lying to Musa and then my husband, and…

Suddenly I wasn't too fond of my mental list.

"You've been quite irresponsible," Digit accused, crossing her little arms. "Bloom has been worried sick about you, and—oh, yeah, she thinks _you're_ sick. She's called you precisely sixteen times, and if my calculations are right, she'll be calling in three….two…"

_Ba-da, ba-dum! Ring ring ring!_

Annoyed, I flipped open my phone and snapped, "What?!"

"_O-oh. Tecna. You're, um, sounding better."_

I felt slightly guilty at Bloom's stunned voice, but my pixie's attitude had already begun to rub off on me. "Well, I am. And now I'm on vacation. So expect me in a week or two."

"_A vacation? But you were just sick—"_

"I'm better. Hear me breathing evenly? I'm wonderful. Incredible. I could lift ten weights." I paused as I reconsidered the number, all the brownies I'd swallowed recently adding up in my brain. "Fine, maybe two."

"_Well, sure, Tecna, I'm happy you're better, but I'm just surprised you're on vacation. It's, um, unexpected."_

"Sorry about that, Bloom. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go now."

"_You do?"_

Digit glared at me as I continued, "Why yes, Timmy and I were about to go collect seashells. Bye, Bloom!" _Click_.

"I want to see seashells and I want to see them now," Digit declared.

I rolled my eyes; poor, innocent Digit still didn't understand the necessity that was lying just yet. I, too, had once considered it to be an evil, but the more you lie, the more it doesn't affect you. You realize maybe there is some logic to bending the truth. "I wanted to hang up. This was easier than telling her that."

"Lies breed more lies," my pixie stated.

"So I suppose you're my conscience now?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" Digit shouted. Blood rushed to her little face as she balled her hands into fists. "Whatever you've been doing, it hasn't helped you, Tecna! And according to my research, the only way you can save this marriage is if you're willing to change what you've been doing. That, I believe, includes lying. So stop."

"Since when did you become an expert on relationships?" I quipped.

Flicking back her auburn curls, Amore fluttered her eyes at me and winked. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart! Love is something I know all about. And I know one thing for certain."

"What?" I replied weakly.

"That you and Timmy still love each other, after all this." The unexpected warmth of her words startled me, and I surprised myself by hugging the two meddling pixies close, grateful that they could voice that one assurance my doubts failed to whisper. So what if Digit and I were arguing? So what if I felt patronized by the pixies' presence? This surpassed that.

_He loves me. He loves me._

"Where's Timmy?" I insisted, smiling so hard it hurt my jaw. "We haven't got a moment to lose!"

* * *

Reconnecting with Timmy, oddly enough, felt like a mission. I didn't have to find any artifacts, or battle any monsters, or outsmart any villains, and yet I knew I needed a strategy, a game plan if you will. So, when I approached my husband on the beach, I attempted to keep that plan in motion.

"Tecna?" Timmy exclaimed, standing up so quickly that sand clung to the seat of his pants. "You're awake! That's wonderful."

"Sorry I, erm, fainted," I apologized, drawing a circle in the sand with my toe. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Amore cheering me on from behind a palm frond. "This…isn't exactly the start I wanted us to have." I debated inwardly whether or not to ask if he knew about the two pixies patrolling us, but held my tongue in the event that he had no idea. Things were suspicious enough between us; no need to complicate it further.

Timmy didn't say anything. His little lop-sided grin pulled at his mouth and he held up his arms, awkwardly, before wrapping them about me in a stiff embrace. "I'm just glad you're okay, Tecna. I mean, gosh, if you had hurt yourself I don't know what I'd do."

I could feel myself melt at the sincerity of his words. "Oh, Timmy…" How is it I had fought this man, I wanted to know, as I wrapped my arms around his neck in return and peppered his cheek with kisses. "I'm absolutely fine now. Really."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm." I planted a kiss on his mouth in assurance, sticky and sweet in the heat of the sun. "So…what do you want to do now?"

* * *

Maybe, in retrospect, we shouldn't have chosen the jet skis. If we wanted to really spend time together, well, there was a sleeping bag at the ready in the tent. On the other hand, jet skis are fun, they're fast, and they're an excuse to snuggle close as can be.

All donned up in his gear, my husband resembled something more Martian than man, but his shy little wave assured me that, indeed, this was Timmy and not a storm trooper. (Bloom and her Earth movie nights…) I had nothing but a simple helmet strapped on my head, and I waited as Timmy checked the gas. "Well?"

"We're good to go." He adjusted his glasses and frowned. "But _where_ are we going, Tecna?"

"Anywhere," I announced, grinning. "We can go anywhere we want."

We boarded his levabike gingerly, he grabbing the handles and I pressing myself into the small of his back. He smelled crisp, clean, comfortable. Familiar. "Are you ready?" he called. I pulled down the visor on my helmet and nodded.

The hum of the engine echoed through the forest, and I trembled along with the bike, exhilaration sweeping through me as we glided over the water, leaving waves in our wake. Together we sped through the woodland and the waters, our breathing the only constant as the world about us kept changing colors, sights, and sounds. I pretended not to notice the two tiny bodies behind me, clinging to my waist. I pretended to not hear Amore's advice being whispered in my ear ("Just tell him how you really feel!") or Digit's complaints ("If he goes any faster, I'm going to fly off this thing!") and just concentrated on me, Timmy, and the ride.

Nothing had changed, I forced myself to admit, even as my body was thrilled by the electric touch of his body so close against my own. No problems had been resolved, no conflicts unraveled. Still, this just so simple, so innocent, that I could have sworn our past disagreements didn't matter. Everything, now, was as it should be.

That is, of course, until a giant bird swooped in the middle of the river, and with a loud scream—mine, Timmy's, or the pixies', I'm not sure—the bike swerved away towards the mountain range, crashing neatly into a pile of useless rubbish by the shore.

With our luck, what else could you expect?

* * *

**End Note:** I'm happy I got to sneak some pixies in. See, they're usually so hard to stick in fanfic, especially with so many important characters to juggle. We've got the six Winx gals, and then their pixies, which makes it difficult to have big scenes (can you imagine writing a twelve person conversation? O.o) so I'm happy I at least got to use two. So thank you for reading, and if you wanna, leave a review! C'mon. You know you do. :D


	5. Chapter 5: Dead Zone

**Note: **I'm going to try and be more active in this chapter than in the last. I'm not used to speediness, which isn't so good (my fics have been dragging lately…), but I will remedy this ASAP! Thanks to the reviewers, and enjoy!

**Chapter Five: Dead Zone**

"You get anything?"

"Nope."

"What if you go to your left?"

"Nothing."

With a dejected sigh, Timmy and I both stuffed our cellphones back into our pockets and glowered at the scenery and our luck. "I can't believe this," I muttered. "I cannot _believe_ you got us stranded here."

"That bird flew in the way!" my husband protested. "If it hadn't—"

"If it hadn't, then we wouldn't be sitting here, trying to get phone service?" I replied bitterly. "Just let me use my winx, Timmy, and we can leave here just as quickly as we arrived. _Please_."

And, for the thousandth time that hour, Timmy shook his head.

A long, long time ago, my husband and I had come to the Resort Realm on a mission for the then-sophomore Winx Club to "reconnect." I'd like to point out that the weakness I had then with my winx is exceedingly different than any I'd have had as a full-fledged fairy, and the sooner Timmy recognized it, the happier I would be. "I don't want you to hurt yourself," had been his excuse. "I don't want you to waste your energy carrying me. Who knows how much you'll have?"

Amore had declared it romantic. Digit had declared it logical. I had declared it a royal pain.

"So we'll be staying here overnight?" I stated, giving the ruined levabike a dirty look.

"Looks like it," Timmy nodded. And without a word, we both got up to make some sort of shelter.

Now, I'm going to be honest: roughing it in the outdoors is not my forte. Perhaps Layla, Flora, or even Musa could have been a Pixie Scout, but me, I was lucky to toast a marshmallow without getting it burnt to a crisp. So building a shelter from scratch—without winx—was pretty much laughable.

Timmy, on the other hand, had trained for this his entire life. Before I knew what was happening, my husband began ordering me to help lift logs, to make notches with his blade, and to follow his movements as he created something out of these twigs and bark. Digit and Amore watched silently, our conversation interesting enough to merit their attention:

"Tecna, carry it over here."

"This?"

"No, the _log_, Tecna—now put it this way gently…gently…_gently_, Tecna, _gently_!" His arms pulled the wobbling wood from my reach and steadied it, my cheeks hot in embarrassment. "Maybe you should stick to using the knife, huh?"

Sulky, I did so, grumbling, "I don't know how you can remember all this useless information, Timmy. The last time I built any sort of house was out of gingerbread at Bloom's winter party."

Timmy laughed at that, his spirits a good deal higher than mine. "That could be useful. We're going to have to eat, too, you know."

"Are you suggesting I'm going to have to _cook_?"

"No offense, Tecna, but I think I'll handle that."

So while basically being a useless bump on a log (Get it? Log? We're hauling logs? …You know, someday someone _is_ going to have to laugh at my jokes), I sat there, biting my lip against anything particularly rude or of the complaining-nature. Digit, being easily bored, had taken out our cellphones and was playing with them by trying to reestablish their signals. This left Amore by my side, and she refused to let up on her love advice.

"Tecna, I think you should have a real heart-to-heart with Timmy," the pixie decided. "I want you to tell him all your special feelings, and then give him a big hug. That'll fix everything!"

I imagined Musa and Riven having such a talk and chuckled. "I'm not that confrontational," I admitted finally. "I mean, lately I feel as if I've been getting more aggressive, but it only seems to land me in more trouble. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize that further. Besides, I…I don't know what I'd say."

Amore patted my hand reassuringly. "Then write it down. And when the time comes, you _will_ know."

Now, I won't lie to you: I thought the idea to be very provincial and silly. I sat alone on my little corner of grass and laughed to myself over it once she'd left—write all my problems down, indeed! What was I, a silly schoolgirl? Honestly. Why, to write down my problems would be so immature. I knew my problems well enough, didn't I?

…Didn't I?

Suddenly a horrifying thought echoed in my mind: _I didn't know why I was unhappy_. Terror seized me, and I shook my head, desperate for any answer but this. Wasn't it easier to say this was all brought about by Timmy, by his lack of romance? But no, he'd been improving, slowly but surely. He'd been nothing but sweet, well-tempered, lovely, and…and perfect.

So what, then, was wrong?

"I'm going to go for a walk," I announced to no one in particular, standing up. I stretched my arms and began to go at a light jog, all the while not even wondering how I'd find my way back. I jogged, and jogged, until all the trees were the same, until my poor weakened legs could take it no more. A river came into sight and I stared at it, thoughtfully, before deciding what I needed right then and there was a bath to shake all this stress off.

The water was cool, refreshing against my skin. My clothes fell in a puddle on the ground, and I shivered at the river's touch before easing myself in its depths. Sunlight danced on its surface, and I stared upon it, watching my reflection become distorted with flashes of color.

"What _do_ I want?" I whispered to myself. "If Timmy's fine…then what's wrong with us? What's wrong with _me_? Why can't I …why can't I just be…happy?"

Such a simple wish. And yet, so illogically founded.

A yelp stole my attention from my worries, and I turned my head to see the scarlet face of a man I knew to my husband. His freckles stood out against a blushing background, and he stammered out random things, all sounding to be some sort of "I'm sorry to interrupt" and "I didn't know you were bathing."

"I'm _so_ sorry!" Timmy finished awkwardly. "So, so sorry, Tecna!"

I watched him fidget and stammer, then stood, shaking the water from my hair. "Why?" I challenged. "Why should you be? We're married, aren't we? There's nothing bizarre about seeing me like this." My eyes bored into his, and receiving no answer, I slowly clothed myself and sighed, coming to his side. "Why are you afraid of me?" I whispered, and the words came out choked, strange. "Why, Timmy?"

I took his hands in my own, and he averted my gaze, staring at the ground instead. "Afraid?" Timmy repeated. "I don't know, Tecna. I don't know what to think of you anymore, that's all. I'm not _afraid_ of you. I'm just…I don't know what you want from me."

The wind sang in the silence, unspoken answers trailing alongside it. _Me too. I don't know what I want, too. I need answers, answers, answers. _I closed my eyes, and I let different scenarios play in my mind: how Sky would react, how Helia, how Riven, how Nabu and Brandon would reply to such a rift. Then I opened my eyes to see Timmy before me, and I couldn't for the life of me guess what he, of all people, wanted me to say.

So what came out was the truth: "I want us to be in love again."

Timmy almost smiled, and as his mouth opened louder, he began _laughing_. He shook his head, glasses sliding, and said, "Do you really, Tecna? Because it feels like you don't. It feels like you want to unravel everything we've got left, you know? I love you, but…love is a two person thing. And I don't know what exactly I've done to make you so unhappy. Just tell me, Tecna. _Tell_ me."

"I don't know!" I screamed at him, and I could feel my body shaking, my eyes somehow becoming wet. "For the love of Magix, Timmy, I don't _know_! I thought I was happy, and then…and then you started seeming so _different_, so _odd_. Videogames, Timmy? Is that what our love is founded on: technology?"

"Of course not—"

"So why the airship, then? Why did you think I'd want a rusty piece of useless air-garbage?" I challenged. "Maybe I wanted to go to that new quiet café on Main Street, or—or walk on the beach hand-in-hand, or maybe kiss in the moonlight in a secluded forest! Maybe I _wanted_ that!"

"Fine, we can do that—"

"Stop interrupting me and just listen, would you?"

"Listen to _yourself_, Tecna!" Timmy protested. "Do you have any idea what you're complaining about?"—I opened my mouth, but he cut me off—"This has nothing to do with technology. You're mad at me because _I can't read your mind_. And Tecna, that's the most illogical argument I've heard in a long, long time."

Rage coursed through me; Timmy wasn't supposed to be fighting back. _This_ was the part of the argument in which my husband apologized, and then I felt guilty and blurted out a thousand apologies to cancel out his. Since when did he talk to me like that—_treat_ me like that?

"Y-you haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about!" I sputtered.

"If you haven't noticed, neither do you!"

"I can't believe this. I simply cannot believe this." I shook my head and let out a short, hysterical laugh. "I don't know why I even bothered. You're so…so…pig-headed to even _think_ that this could be my fault."

"And it isn't?" Timmy challenged. "Look, honey, I love you, but this is just ridiculous. I haven't done anything wrong here. If I had, I'd apologize, but for not knowing what you were thinking? That's not my fault." He extended a hand in offering, and I glowered at him. "I'm going back to the shelter. Will you come with me?"

It should come as no surprise that I swatted his hand away and announced, "I have my own shelter, thank you."

* * *

"If you hadn't been arguing with Timmy, this never would have happened."

"Shut up."

"It's true, though."

"Don't you have even the tiniest shred of sympathy hiding in your heart?" I moaned, rainwater slipping through the cracks of my very shabby, very pathetic shelter. "I don't need this now, Digit. Really, I don't."

I'd be lucky to have gotten a minute of sleep the night before, huddled in the corner of this tepee of palm fronds. I barely fit in there as it was, and with Digit crowding me, I could barely breathe.

Of course, immediately following my little dispute with Timmy, I was racked by indescribable guilt and pain. It took a good deal of wounded pride and nursed anger to keep me away from that snug, cozy little shelter by the levabike's remains.

And so, now, I was living in the result of my determined frenzy.

"I don't get why you're so high-strung, though, Tecna," Digit stated. "I mean, clearly, there is something physically wrong with you. My Tecna wouldn't spaz out over a completely rational reply."

"Your Tecna is a married woman, and therefore entitled to lose her mind every once in a while." I laid my head on my knees and sighed. How had this happened, exactly? How had I let our first real attempt at communication these past few months blow up in my face so completely? "I want to go home, Digit. So terribly."

"Then use your Enchantix."

"But then I strand Timmy."

"So take him with you."

"Have you not been paying attention these past two days?" I snapped. "I can't do that, not when he's being so…so…oh, you know what I'm talking about."

Digit raised her eyebrows. "Not really."

"Why did the levabike have to break?" I moaned. "Why, oh why, oh why, Digit? I'm in the middle of a technology-free world, and nature is stifling me with its pathetic roofs."

"So go to Timmy's shelter."

"Digit—!" Furious, I stood up, the tepee uprooting along with me. The palm fronds slipped off my head and fell into a sopping wet heap on the ground and I let out a single, furious cry as Digit tut-tutted and shook her head.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I'm very well aware of that!" And kicking my shelter's remains, I stomped off.

Rain, rain, rain. My hair stuck to my face and my clothes clung to my body with their cold, moist fabrics. Of course I'd have chosen to wear the _fireproof_ outfit, and not the _water-resistant_ one. Whoever says women don't suffer for fashion is clearly in denial.

Well, my first order of business was to make a new shelter, of course. So I pulled at slippery wet tree branches, grunting and groaning until my hands pulled them free. I whimpered at the blisters but did this again, and again, until I had more splinters to worry about than blisters. I did this so often, and got so deaf to the sound of cracking wood around me, that I almost didn't hear the scream.

My whole body stilled, and it took me mere moments to determine that the sound was human. _Timmy_. I didn't think about all the arguments we'd had. I didn't think about the rain, the blisters, the splinters, the effect this place had on my power.

I simply flew.

It's a surge of power shooting through you, a charge similar to adrenaline, a rush. Like fire, it spreads through you, transforming you into something powerful and strange. I felt the soft touch of my lengthening hair against my cheek, and I felt the familiar shudder of wings sprouting from my back.

All this happened in mere moments, and soon I was racing the raindrops, fighting to find the source of that sound. "Timmy?" I called over the wind. "Timmy? Timmy!"

And there he was, just an hour's walk from his shelter. His sword was drawn, and before him stood a hulking shadow of a beast—something not native here, that's certain. Its four legs dragged against the ground, and its horns jabbed forward threateningly towards my spouse, swiping and roaring at his tiny, darting form.

"World wide web!" I screamed, and boxes of green light trapped Timmy's attacker in place. "Timmy, what are you doing? Attack him now! _Do it_!"

"Tecna?" he murmured, and my poor, stunned husband let a smile spread across his face before heeding my words. The thing collapsed under his blade and I dropped to the ground, indignant.

"Where did this come from?" I shouted. "Why didn't you stop it? Why is it that if I couldn't have come here—?"

"You came back." His arms wrapped around me, and all my complaints were silenced by his arms. "Oh, Tecna, you came _back_."

Came back? I blinked, his meaning seeping through. "I—I just thought you were hurt," I insisted. "And I was right. You could have died, Timmy!" _Died. _And if he had died, what then? What would I have done without him?

"Tecna—"

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" I demanded, shaking. "Don't you ever, ever, let yourself get in danger like that right after we've been fighting! Timmy, don't you dare!"

I don't know if it was rain, or tears, that poured down my cheeks as I buried my head in his shoulder. But either way, it was Timmy who brushed them away, and whispered, "I promise. Do you…" He paused, running his fingers through my hair. "Do you want to go inside? You don't have to, but…it's raining. And I don't know how far away your shelter could be."

It's a compromise, I realized, and I could see Digit floating behind him, nodding her head emphatically. "I could always leave tomorrow when the sun comes up," I replied in a whisper.

"It's your call," Timmy assured me, and pulling our arms away slowly, we walked towards his shelter, both too preoccupied to wonder how exactly such a monster wound up here, anyway.

For now.


	6. Chapter 6: Rainrainrain

**Note: **Um. I don't think 'sorry' cuts it for a three month absence, so: Please spare me from the angry torrent of tomatoes and/or pumpernickel bread for my lateness. I'm hoping, but not promising, to keep this story updating faster. I hate leaving things in limbo, you know? I feel like I'm dangling my characters (well, not _mine_, but you get it) over a cliff and then ignoring them as I handle other fics. Which, uh, isn't cool. So here's chapter six, a few months later!

**Chapter Six: Rainrainrain**

It was dry, at the very least, in Timmy's little shelter. "It's not that amazing," he apologized in advance as I stumbled inside, but I had already collapsed on the sleeping bag in delirious glee. "Uh, we've got some food—"

"Food?" My enthusiasm quickly plummeted when I saw my husband's findings: raw fish. "Timmy, there's a good chance that will kill you."

"It's something, though." He shrugged and sat down beside me. "Don't you remember when you survived in the Omega Dimension? Pretend it's like that."

"But I was trying to save the world," I reminded him. "I had _motive_."

"You're trying to live. Isn't that motive enough?"

Outsmarted, I tentatively took a bite and held it down. Immediately a shudder rippled through my spine as I gagged. "O-oh, that's despicably nasty."

"Try your cooking sometime," Timmy teased, and I shoved him lightly. "Aw, c'mon. It's _true_, Tec!"

I ignored the validity of his statement and snuggled deeper into the sleeping bag. My eyelids felt like lead, my body lifeless. "Aren't you exhausted?" I accused, and Timmy laughed.

"This is nothing compared to training at Red Fountain. I'm fine. But I'm guessing even Alfea didn't prepare you for sleeping outside in the rain and then fighting a monster off. Alone."

"I'm not even sure that's what's bothering me," I admitted quietly. My fingers tightened on the pillow below my head, and I continued, "I used my Enchantix, and now…I can feel how it drained me. And then there's…something…"

"Something?" Timmy prodded as I broke off.

"Nothing. It's just a feeling."

I left it at that and buried my head into the pillow, rainwater dripping down the nape of my neck. "Want me to tuck you in?" Timmy joked, and I laughed to myself.

"Sure. Why not."

I trembled pleasantly at the touch of his hands against my bare shoulders and curled my toes at the warmth of the bag's cover. Timmy paused overhead and opened his mouth before closing it and patting me on the head. "Well." A cough. "Good night."

"Night," I murmured. I heard footsteps receding behind me as the light dimmed (_Light? Where had he found light?_) and a thought struck me. "Timmy?" Sitting up and squinted to make him out on the floor. "Timmy, didn't you have a sleeping bag, too?"

A long silence greeted me. "Tec, we're away from the camp. I kind of had to get this one from the emergency compartment on the levabike."

"They have emergency compartments now?"

"Well, I modified ours. Had a free weekend some weeks ago, you know."

"Huh." I bit my lip. Oh, dear. No one can enjoy cozy goodness when they're being haunted by guilt, can they? Unless they're Icy and company, which I wasn't, or a psycho bent on conquering the world, which I also was not. Oh, wait. Those two are the same things basically, aren't they? My mind is not what it used to be…

"Don't worry about me," Timmy answered my unspoken thoughts. "I've dealt with worse at Red Fountain, promise."

"But—"

"No buts. Sleep."

Well, with an order like that and a day like mine, who was I to say no?

* * *

I dream in numbers. Don't laugh. I really, honestly do—every dream I've ever had has involved them in some way. Whether it's a nightmare of everything becoming a fatal error, or a dream of Timmy and I floating in a city filled with equations in the sky, I dream of math.

It's sad on a number of levels. I think that Freud person Bloom sometimes mentions would have a field day with my brain.

Anyway, that night, I was dreaming I was in Alfea. Ms. Faragonda was watching over me as I wrote on a chalkboard a long, sprawling equation that in real life I'd label complete nonsense. "Well, Tecna," my past mentor commented, "you've got the equation done except for two things. You have failed to enter all the variables, and you have failed to choose a result."

"But variables determine the result, don't they?"

"Precisely why you must factor them in," she replied. "And once you see all the options ahead of you, perhaps then you can choose the product most fitting to your purpose, hm?"

I think on some level it could have been a very telling dream, were it not for the fact that Ms. Faragonda was dancing to Musa's latest CD in sweats on her desk. So, naturally, that image made me wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and, naturally, it woke up Timmy from his warm spot of floor.

"What? What is it?" my husband called out with his sword at the ready. "Monsters?!"

"Worse," I gasped. "Ms. F in baggy sweatpants!"

* * *

If I were to describe myself in three words, right then, they'd probably be these: Unidentified Flying Object. Upon waking, I managed to completely side-step the "leaving" question and joke with Timmy over a breakfast of herbs instead. To be honest, I didn't _want_ to leave. Being angry makes you tired. And when you're tired in your own blown-down shelter, there's no sleeping bag to sleep the weariness off. Or sanity to consider serious life questions.

So when Timmy asked me, point-blank, "Are we sticking together, then?" I figured, why not? Yesterday was over. The past two _weeks_ were over. The rain had stopped, escape from foliage was in sight, and Timmy and I weren't at each other's throats. Currently, anyway.

"First order of business, then," Timmy announced, "is that thing that attacked me." He pointed to a drawing he had made with a stick in the sand, and continued, "It's strange. The creatures here in the Resort Realm are peaceful. Someone must have irked it."

"Indeed." I nodded. "Now, who would do that, though?"

"Well, Icy, Darcy, and Stormy, certainly, but I think they were at that colony, weren't they? And we've erased all threat from Lord Darkar and…I can't remember his name, he had long hair and eye make-up…Palladium?"

"...That was the name of one of my professors, Timmy."

"Oh, you know who I'm talking about," he sighed. "That one. You know. Tried to take over the world."

I laughed. "Timmy, that's _everyone _we've ever fought. You mean Baltor, right?"

He pounded his hand on the ground in victory. "Yes, him! He's gone, too. So, we're either facing a new enemy, or—"

"Or someone old has learned new tricks," I mumbled to myself. "Taking over monsters…summoning monsters…hm." The gears in my head turned, and I wished, not for the first time, that my stupid phone wasn't out of range. With technology these days, you could find any information with a click of a button, and normally, I could do that easily.

The Resort Realm could be so inhospitable.

"It's definitely got Darcy's stamp on it," I thought aloud. "What I can't figure, though, is why such a creature would be sent here, of all places. I mean, there's nothing here but tourists and that building dedicated to Alfea. There's nothing to corner and hunt."

"Except us."

We both let the words sink in and frowned. "Th-that's silly," I protested finally. "I mean, no one knows we're here—"

"—aside from Flora and Musa and whomever they told. Oh, and Bloom."

"But they wouldn't put us in danger," I insisted. "Anyone who wanted us for revenge, or—or for tapping into Sparx wouldn't be told a word about our whereabouts! I trust the Winx Club. I always have."

We stared each other down before Timmy's eyes softened and he stood up. "I know. I just—it seems so coincidental that it just _can't_ be a coincidence, do you understand?" He hesitated. "I…I'm worried. What do you think is going on, outside this place? Has anyone broken free from prison, or has one of your friends been—?"

"Point taken. Let's explore and get ourselves out of this place."

Timmy smiled. "Right."

Our hug was strictly congratulatory…or so I told myself as I stubbornly denied any desire to kiss him. Because even if I wanted to, and even if I was starting to come to terms with my conflicting feelings, my marriage would just have to wait for saving the world from villainous foes.

You know, priorities and all that.

* * *

Timmy and I had been walking for an agonizing five hours. Flying really spoils a fairy, I'm sorry to say. I endured a total of sixteen stomach cramps and threw up twice thanks to my husband's pace. Luckily for me, he slowed down once he saw I couldn't keep up, and I managed to hold my pain in.

Of course, by then Timmy had to run on ahead and see what direction was clear to follow, so I took the opportunity to enjoy a few moments of peace sitting on the ground. It would have been lovely except for this buzzing in my ear…wait. That wasn't buzzing, that was—!

"Tecna! Tecna, Tecna, Tecna!"

Digit gasped and huffed as she attacked me from behind. Groaning at her impact, I raised an eyebrow. "Digit, what has gotten into you—?"

"I did it!" she moaned, stuffing two little cellphones into my hand. "Now…in…range. Oh, those long hours…my back is cramping…I need a chiropractor…"

"Digit did her best!" Amore piped up, following my pixie from behind. "She loves you, and she wanted to help somehow."

"Help is an understatement," I breathed. _Cellphones_. Oh, what goodness was instilled in these two beacons of technology, what a wondrous miracle had blessed us with their functioning!

"They're almost dead, though."

Half-a-miracle, then.

"Timmy!" I screamed, and lo and behold, my specialist came sprinting towards me, alert.

"What is it—? Oh." He blinked owlishly as he took in the sight of my companions. "Uh, Digit...and Amore…didn't know you were here, too. Small world."

"You have no idea," I replied. "Listen, Digit fixed the phones!"

Immediately his expression brightened. "That's great!"

"They're almost dead, though."

"Oh. That's bad."

I shoved his into his hand and began to dial as I had never dialed before. "I need to call Musa first," I insisted as I rushed. "I need to know if anyone's—oh." I paused as a box appeared on my screen. "She's left me a video message."

Three heads crowded by mine as we watched the screen brighten to reveal my couch. Not one voice, but several reached our ears as the screen jumped and blurred.

"**Did you turn it on—?**"

"**Of course it's on, you moron! The film is rolling!**"

"**Oh, crap…**" The picture shook as the camerawoman cleared her throat. "**Greetings, Tecna. Timmy. So good to talk to you again—no, wait. It isn't. See, you're not home, and I don't like looking for people, you understand?**"

"Doesn't she sound familiar?" Timmy commented, but I shushed him.

"**Now, I need something from you two nerds. I think you know what I need, don't you? Passage into Sparx. It's that simple. Give me and my minions entry, and I'll make it worth your while. If you don't…"**

The camera swiveled to a fairy I knew far too well encased in a block of ice, her arms held out as if to fire at an enemy. "Musa—!" I gasped, eyes wide. Oh, no. Not Musa. Not my best friend. A low growl crept from my throat, and Timmy flinched, surprised.

"**Just** **in case you forgot, my girls are still as powerful as we've always been**." A pale face filled the screen with a patronizing grin, her eyes encased in blue make-up. "**Breaking out of that colony was a snap. Imagine how badly I could break **_**her**_**. Meet us at Cloud Tower, stat, or your precious little popstar will freeze to death. I know where you aaare,**"she finished in a sing-song voice. "**Don't make me fetch you, geeks.**"

And that was it. It ended, just like that. "Icy broke free from the colony," I whispered, dumbstruck.

"She wants to attack Sparx," Timmy breathed.

"She has Musa," Digit added.

"And now Timmy and Tecna will _never_ get together!" Amore moaned. Timmy cast me a look, and I employed the ever useful "smile-and-shrug" plan. There was no time to unfold my heart's ridiculous discrepancies. Musa, my dearest Musa, was in the clutches of our oldest foe, and by Magix, I had to do something! I…I couldn't just hang around this place, could I?

Everyone paced about desperately, ideas being thrown out like paper.

"What if we—? Couldn't we—? Why not—?"

Finally, we all let out a heavy sigh and sat down. "We need to get out of here," Timmy announced.

"My winx—"

"No, we can walk," he insisted.

Infuriated, I stood up. "Musa's life is on the line, and you want to _walk_?! This is not the time for roughing the outdoors, you idiot! Conserving my winx is the least of our worries!" I frowned and crossed my arms. My winx was acting up with all this rage, and it took every shred of will to hold back my instinct and keep my feet planted on the ground. "We can't afford to go slowly."

"Agreed."

The voice was deeper than Timmy's and I jumped, startled. "Um, thank you?" I squeaked. "Who…who am I thanking, exactly?" The pixies huddled closer and Timmy drew his sword.

"Who's there?" he barked. "Show yourself!"

"Geez, Timster, _relax_."

Two shadows emerged from the thicket of the forest. The first was definitely female, her dark skin a shining caramel in the sunlight. Beside her stood a tall man with a scowl we knew far too well. The girl flicked back her long curly locks and asked, 'Well, Tecna? Any reason you and Timmy are here instead of at home?"

"Yeah, Timmy," the man growled, "any reason you left Musa _alone_?"

It struck me in a moment, and I breathed, "Layla? Riven? What are you doing here—?"

"I'll tell you one thing," Riven snarled. "We're sure as hell not doing nothing. Now pull out your wings and fly out of here, or we'll make you. We've been looking too long for you to back out now."

"We'll explain how we got here later, okay?" Layla sighed. "Just trust us. We have to go, _now_."

When Layla, or Riven, tells you to go, you don't question them: you shut your mouth and you _go_.

* * *

**End Note:** Don't kill me for shortness! –cringe- I know the last section sounded rushed, and maybe it was, but I need material for next the chappie. I promise everything will be smoothed out then. Really. And I promise it will be faster coming, haha.


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